“I was in west London when I got an email from Prince’s UK team, about half past five one afternoon. They told me an interview was on, in a couple of hours, in Leyton. In the cab, I was told that it was Lianne La Havas’s house. I get to this ordinary terraced house and there’s a big security guard at the gate on the front wall and another by the front door. The lounge has been cleared out and there’s just a kit and guitars, but no sign of Prince. We wait for an hour or so, then a big, blackedout car pulls up. The door opens and in walk these three impossibly glamorous women, wafting in like Egyptian goddesses. They stand to one side, we wait for another half an hour, then the door from the kitchen suddenly opens and in walks Prince, holding a cup of herbal tea. He’s wearing a black, all-in-one silk jumpsuit with flared legs. Big, perfect afro and massive round sunglasses. He smells beautiful, even from the other side of the room. He says, ‘Hi, shall we do this then?’ He sits on a stool and we start talking.